Sporting News MLB writers Jesse Spector and Ryan Fagan trade emails about hot topics in the world of baseball. This week: How much difference does a manager make in his team's win-loss record?:

RYAN: There are exceptional managers in October, the leaders who captain their ship and navigate through the treacherous waters that are postseason baseball. Or, so says the narrative. But do managers really have that much of an impact? Is it all about the players on the field, or do the skippers pulling the strings make a huge difference? When it comes to in-game decision-making, I’ve always kind of looked at managers along the same lines as kick returners in football, with the “do no harm” theory. With kick returners, the primary goal is not to fumble the football, and any sort of positive return is a bonus. With managers, the primary goal is to not do anything foolish, and any sort of stroke of genius is a bonus. Mostly, though, fans just want their managers not to cost them any important games.

Grady Little, Pedro Martinez (AP Photo)

JESSE: Allow me to quote the great American philosopher Moe Szyslak, who said, "The only thing I know about strategy is that everything the manager does is crap. Unless it works, in which case he's a button pusher." But sometimes it doesn't matter what the manager does. Look at this year's playoffs. Don't bring in the lefty and David Ortiz homers. Bring in the lefty and David Ortiz homers. Walk David Ortiz and Shane Victorino doubles in three runs. Most tough decisions that managers make have a very slight effect on the outcome because you're forever operating in a system where the chance of the next guy getting a hit is in the 25-30 percent range. I think the best managers are those who connect with their teams and foster the kind of confidence needed for the athletes on their team to perform at their best. The strategy is secondary.

RYAN: Did Moe unleash that gem of baseball wisdom before or after he paged Mr. Hugh Jass or Ms. Bea O’Problem at his bar? I guess it doesn’t really matter. Also, thanks for sending me into a Simpsons-fueled YouTube rabbit hole for the past half-hour. Yes, that included the softball song, with Roger Clemens clucking all the while .

Anyway … managers and such. You want your manager to avoid the Grady Little-level mistakes of judgment, and most manage to do that pretty well. The problem with trying to figure out what makes a good manager is so much of the discussion is qualitative, looking at how they “get the best out of their players” and how much “leadership” they show in the clubhouse. Ugh. You just cannot know those things in advance with new managers. And yet, some are amazing with this. Joe Maddon, in Tampa Bay, is the first one who comes to mind.

JESSE: The idea of "Grady Little-level mistakes of judgment" is what makes me question the entire exercise of evaluating managers on their in-game decisions. Should Little have taken Pedro Martinez out of Game 7 of the 2003 ALCS? Probably, but it's also worth remembering that Jorge Posada, before his game-tying two-run double, was 10-for-53 in his career against Martinez, and 0-for-3 that night. If Martinez gets Posada out — and the count was 2-2, and then Alan Embree comes in to take care of Jason Giambi, as he did, then Little is praised for having the guts to stick with his ace. I get that managers are judged on results, but if Posada is a half-inch off on his swing, we still know Terry Francona as the failed former manager of the Phillies.

I agree with Maddon working in the Tampa Bay clubhouse, and I think he's a very good manager because of the way that all the players on that team buy in with him. A big part of that is also fit. I don't think Maddon would be great for the Yankees, for instance, with so many veterans and so much scrutiny on everything that happens around the team. It's why Maddon calls the Rays the perfect job for him — it is. He's not enough of a button-down guy for the Yankees. Similarly, I don't think Bobby Valentine is a bad manager, but he was a horrendous fit for a Boston team with a bunch of veteran stars. Valentine's best work has been in motivating younger teams and turning around bad organizations — his style demands players who will play his way or suffer consequences. He's a poor man's Buck Showalter, in a lot of ways. So, it's not enough just to be a good manager — to succeed, you have to be with the right team.

Joe Maddon (left) (AP Photo)

RYAN: And there’s the rub. How can a general manager know he’s picking the right guy for the right team? And even if the initial hire works, there’s no guarantee that manager will remain the right guy for that franchise in the long term. Whitey Herzog won the 1982 World Series with the Cardinals and brought the Fall Classic back to St. Louis in 1985 and 1987, but by the time he stepped away from the team in July 1990, he was very aware that he was no longer the right guy for the team as it currently was configured. “I don't think that I have done a good job as a manager this year,'' Herzog said at a his press conference, as reported in the New York Times . ''I just can't get the guys to play and I think anybody could do a better job than me.''

Just because Herzog or countless other managers failed miserably with certain teams doesn’t mean they would have been horrible managers in different circumstances. You brought up Francona, and he’s a perfect example. His time in Philly isn’t looked upon favorably by Phillies fans, but he brought two World Series titles to Boston. It’s things like this that make me slower to criticize a manager than most folks—especially the leather-lunged fans sitting in the stands during a disappointing homestand.

JESSE: Herzog is a great example. I think you can look at Lou Piniella's career, too — a three-time manager of the year, with a ring, who is viewed very differently in different cities.

I think evaluating the man in charge is hardest in baseball because there's the least amount of difference in systems that teams run. A football coach might be particularly fond of blitzing, a basketball coach might run the triangle offense, or a hockey coach might play the neutral zone trap. What sets apart, say, Joe Torre? And what made Torre so different in New York than in St. Louis? It doesn't take anything away from the job done, and doesn't mean that simply anyone could do it, but it does make it very difficult, if not impossible, to say how much of a difference one manager makes.